


Commutation

by Mooselk



Series: Rotation and Reflection [3]
Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mother-Son Relationship, Political Intrigue, So Many Coups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 10:24:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13362645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mooselk/pseuds/Mooselk
Summary: In a Kouka led by the Wind Tribe, Hiryuu comes and reclaims the throneRoleswap AU: Yona as Soowon, Soowon as Hak, Hak as Yona





	Commutation

Hak pauses his furious pacing when he hears sounds coming from the door. They have moved furniture in front of it from the other side; a wardrobe from a nearby room prevents him from breaking the door off of its hinges. It muffles sound almost completely. But now it seems that the wardrobe is being moved – he can hear the scrape of wood on wood and the steps of the four men it takes to move it off the spot.

“May Hiryuu bless the road you walk on,” says a voice.

“And to you the same. Be careful, he’s not called Thunder Beast for nothing,” is the muffled reply and then the door cracks open and a figure steps inside, carrying a tray. The door instantly slams shut again. As soon as it does, Hak pounces on the intruder, pushing him to the ground and covering his mouth with his hand. The tray clatters to the floor, rice flying everywhere and Hak is splashed with lukewarm tea as the cup overturns. Only then does his adrenaline clear enough for him to look his captive in the face and recoil in shock.

“Soowon?!”

His friend pushes himself off the floor and makes a sharp motion for quiet. He is dressed in typical servant robes, and the narrow sleeves look exceptionally strange on him.

“What are you doing here? I thought they would have captured you for sure!”

“I’m rescuing you, what does it look like I’m doing? The Hiryuu impersonator has a kind reputation so I was able to convince the guards that Hiryuu did not want any prisoners denied food.”

“Hiryuu… Soowon, I don’t think he’s an impersonator. I didn’t see him but the man who put me in here, he had a dragon’s arm, just like in the stories. And he was _strong_ , even stronger than me.” Hak whispers, shuddering to remember the feeling of his whole body surrounded by huge claws, bent on squeezing him till he stopped struggling.

“Hiryuu: you didn’t see… him?” Soowon asks, and if Hak was in a normal state of mind, he would have noted the hesitation in Soowon’s voice, the slight widening of his eyes.

“No, the one with the hand knocked me out and then I was here.”

“…I see. Well in any case, we need to get out of here. I set a tapestry on fire two corridors over, they should notice it any moment now,” Soowon mutters and right on cue, there are shouts of alarm from behind the door and the sound of footsteps racing away.

Together they charge the door. It had been left un-barricaded in the commotion and the two guards remaining outside fall to Hak’s fist in an instant. After taking the fallen guards’ swords, Soowon leads the way into the narrow servants’ corridors, which lie abandoned. The entire palace had flooded into the main courtyard to see Hiryuu’s coronation earlier, and it seemed they have not yet returned.

As Soowon pushes open the panel leading to the final staircase, Hak stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait, what about Grandpa? You got him out already, right?” It is natural that Soowon would have evacuated the King first, after all.

Soowon freezes, his shoulders hunching. “You don’t know… “ His voice is barely a whisper and a tendril of ice creeps over Hak’s heart.

“Don’t know _what_ , Soowon? Is he still in there? Were you going to _leave him?_ ”

“No, Hak! He’s… I am so sorry, he’s dead. Hiryuu had him executed just yesterday – I couldn’t get to him in time. Hak I’m-“ his voice fades away into the buzz in Hak’s ears. Dead? No, not Grandpa Mundeok. He was the best warrior, had the most vitality – he wouldn’t _lose_. He couldn’t have just…died. Hiryuu…!

They are almost down the stairs, Hak having been pulled along by Soowon in his shell-shocked state. But now, Hak stops and turns so quickly that Soowon, still clutching his hand, has to catch himself on the railing.

“I’ll kill him!” Hak roars, starting his way back up. “ I will find this Hiryuu and I will kill him!”

Soowon lunges at him and wraps both arms around his torso, using his full body weight to stop Hak from bounding back up the stairs.

“No! You can’t win, remember the four dragons?” And Hak does, he remembers the claws, and the terror, but he does not care. Right now all he needs is blood. He renews his struggle against Soowon’s grip; he has always been much stronger, he can drag both of them back up these stairs if he really wants to.

Soowon gives a mighty tug and Hak finds himself losing his footing on the musty stone. He stumbles and trips, falling backwards in a terrifying rush of vertigo, dragging Soowon with him.

They tumble in a rush of limbs down three steps to the nearest landing. Hak groans, pulling himself back to his feet. A hand clamps around his wrist like a vice. Soowon’s voice is serious and his eyes are frightened.

“Hak. You can’t win. Hiryuu, they love her… You’ll die,”

The tumble down the stairs has cleared his mind. To go back and die hopelessly, that is not what Grandpa would want for him. _Grandpa…_ Hak slams his fist into the stone wall.

They flee through the celebrating city, Hak’s gut churning at the betrayal of the people he had considered his own. Sure, Kuuto had been a Sky Tribe city until Mundeok had overthrown Junam forty years ago, but Hak had been sure that it had finally accepted Wind Tribe rule. But people are cheering in the streets, chanting “Hiryuu!” at the sky, embracing one another. Colorful banners with dragons fly on every tower. No one looks twice at two bedraggled boys walking urgently towards the gates. Yet Hak can’t shake the feeling of eyes trained on his back.

 

* * *

 

From far above, on top of the palace walls, two amber eyes narrow imperceptibly behind a bleached bone mask.

“Found him…” murmurs the masked man, turning slightly in the direction of his companions. “North gates…”

“Your eyes never fail us, Shin-ah. Now if only you would show them to me- then my life would truly be bliss,” comes a drawl from another one of the men. Then, his velvet tone sharpens slightly and he bends at the waist in the barest hint of a bow. “I could hop over there and return him, Hiryuu, my dear. Just say the word.”

“No,” his queen says, quietly. She is leaning on the edge of the parapet, her sleeves billowing around her like flower petals. “It is better this way, I think.”

Then, she turns around and her smile is small, tinged with bitterness, but genuine nonetheless. “And Jaeha, please don’t tease me. We’re all alone up here: you all can use my name. Otherwise I am going to forget how it sounds altogether.”

For a moment, the only noise is the sound of the rushing wind.

“Yona…” murmurs the masked man and she turns the full force of her smile on him. It is blinding, like the first rays of dawn after a long, dark night. _She_ is blinding. A sunrise, a goddess, a dragon. Yona.

“Yes,” Yona says, almost contemplatively. “That is who I am.”

 

* * *

 

Soowon could hide in any city in Kouka if he wanted to. His extensive connections have their own extensive connections, all of which are at his disposal. Alone, he would seamlessly melt into any city’s underworld. But he has a problem. He has Hak to worry about. Righteous Hak does not know how to disappear: he is too used to being visible. Powerful as he is, he has never had anything to fear from being seen. The ability to keep your head down and look nonthreatening is imperative to all of Soowon’s reconnaissance missions, but it is an ability that Hak is sorely lacking. It must come from being built like an oak tree and having all the strength of a young bull. Besides, when dealing with the less than savory members of Kouka’s black market, Hak’s strong convictions and moral code may prove problematic.

Soowon has to make sure Hak is safe: that is a priority. He is, after all, technically Hak’s bodyguard, as amusing as both of them have always found that title, given their respective combat abilities. But then, he desperately needs to go out and gather information. He needs to know where he stands in all this to make plans for the near future. He has never been blindsided this way before. It’s disconcerting to be so suddenly separated from his operatives in Kuuto. He needs to regain contact with them as soon as possible.

There is one place where Soowon is sure they will be safe. It is remote, located in the middle of the woods between Kuuto and Fuuga, far off the main road. It is unlikely anyone will think to look there for the escaped prince, even if they can remember where it is located. Thus, Soowon turns their path in the direction of his mother’s country home.

It is an arduous journey, especially given that they are entirely without provisions, and must avoid the roads. But they make it there without incident. They are greeted warmly, if bemusedly, by all the maids and stable hands from Soowon’s childhood and Hak even manages to smile politely at them, though his desolation and anger are still clearly visible to Soowon’s trained eye.

It is surreal to see Mother again after all this time. She feels solid under his hands when she embraces him, and she smiles at having to look up to meet his eyes. It had been several years since he had last seen her, though they exchanged letters often. His last memories of her before she had become too sick to stay in court was of a woman made of ice, fragile and bitterly cold. She had taken the death of her husband extremely hard, and her already-failing health had paid the price. She had retreated to her family’s country estate with her household, but Soowon had stayed in the palace at King Mundeok’s request. She was too weak to travel and Soowon quickly found himself too busy with his duties. It is one of his regrets, that he had not been more forceful in his requests to the King to visit her. Now, there is no King to ask, for he is dead. The joy of reunion fades with that reminder.

They are fed and left to bathe. It is fairly routine, but after over a week in the wild even a simple bath feels luxurious. Soowon also takes the time to surreptitiously check Hak over for wounds. His bruises from the coup have mostly faded and there does not seem to be anything much more serious. Reassured in that, Soowon relaxes fully for the first time since the dragon god rode through the palace gates. If Hiryuu truly did have the warriors of legend with him, not having been spotted and recaptured can only be attributed to sheer dumb luck.

After donning the offered change of clothing, Hak goes to the rooms provided to him quietly, without any protest. His constant rage has worn him down, as has the relentless pace at which they have crossed the mountains. Hak will sleep for a long time. Soowon feels the same weariness tugging at him, but he pushes it down and goes to find his mother.

She is in her sitting room, waiting. He perches next to her on the couch and lays his head on her shoulder. He is far too tall to do so comfortably, but he feels some of the tension ease out of her shoulders at the familiar, childish gesture so he endures the painful twist of his spine. For a long moment, they breathe in tandem, in comfortable silence.

Yonhi smoothes the hair over his forehead and gently pushes him back upright. It is time, then, for the exchange of information. He had known as soon as their eyes had met that she knew something about the coup. He had seen relief in her face then, but no surprise at her son bringing the heir to the throne of Kouka, wet and bedraggled to her doorstep. He can read her pretty well, for he takes after her in looks and temperament. Her expressions are his own.

So he takes the first step.

“Mother, you know, don’t you, who this Hiryuu really is.”

He sees pride flit over her face, a tiny smile pulling at her lips. “Yes. As do you, my son.”

“Yes. I saw her from the crowd, even if Hak did not. I…knew her, I think.”

She is silent, but again he senses no surprise from her. She wants him to explain, then, just like in the logic puzzles they would solve together when he was a child. To organize your thoughts, she would say. His thoughts on this subject are tangled and emotional. Organization is necessary, to understand.

“We would see her, Hak and I, in the summers when we traveled to Fuuga. She lived by the main road. It became a tradition to camp with her for a week or two every time we passed.”

Those weeks always seemed like a dream afterwards. Just the three of them, in the woods under the sky. When they were together, he always felt complete. Those were some of Soowon’s most precious memories. Her voice raised in laughter. Hak’s face blushing as red as her hair.

“She disappeared two years ago. Hak and I…we did not know what to think.” He had never believed her dead, though he knew that Hak had nightmares about it. For some reason, he felt that he would sense it if someone that bright were to leave the world.

“It was her, definitely. It is impossible to have mistaken that red hair, or her presence. It had to have been Yona. But how…why would she have killed the king? I… don’t understand, Mother.” He is letting his frustration show on his face, he realizes, and schools it back into a neutral expression.

Yonhi sighs.

“You are right. It is Yona who took the name of Hiryuu and reclaimed the Wind Tribe’s stolen throne from under them. But she has more right to it than they do, and also the right to revenge. As do you, my son. You do not understand her cause, even though it should have been yours as well. That is not your fault. We were forbidden to tell you of your birthright. I know it hurt your father terribly, to leave you to grow up in ignorance.”

Her voice is pitched low, but there is passion in her tone and her fists have clenched in her lap in old anger. Soowon grounds himself in these details. It takes him a moment to overcome the sudden dread clutching at his throat.

“What do you mean, mother? What birthright? Father was an advisor…wasn’t he?”

“That was his cover, and what we were ordered to tell you. And he did advise the King, when it came to matters of war. Your father had always had a talent for tactical planning. But in truth… Yuhon was the firstborn son of Junam.”

Soowon’s heart skips a beat. “How is that possible?” His voice comes out breathless. “I was taught that King Junam left no heirs.”

Yonhi reaches and unclasps a long cord from around her neck, drawing it out from under her robes. She hands it to Soowon and he turns the large ornate signet ring with Junam’s official crest over in his fingers, numbly tracing the familiar lines.

“Mundeok may have been a usurper, but he was not fond of cold-blooded murder. He left both of Junam’s sons alive. Yuhon, the elder, was kept as a hostage against the Sky Tribe loyalists. And you, son of Yuhon, Junam’s heir, were raised in service to the usurper. Clever, isn’t it? But what choice did we have? If we did not obey, you would have been taken from us.”

His head is spinning. Everything Soowon had thought to be true has been upended and thrown into the dust.

“But…if father was a hostage, then why was he killed? The dissenters that killed him, they were members of the Sky Tribe!”

Yonhi’s lips thin. “He died on the spears of Wind Tribe guards that day. That rebellion, it was his last hope of regaining his country and his throne.”

“I never…father…” Soowon whispers, staring at his trembling hands. It is like all the grief that he felt after his father’s death has reawakened. Dead, on Wind Tribe spears. And he has been serving them, unknowing, all these years… It takes a concentrated effort to pull himself free of his spiraling thoughts. “But…Yona. I don’t understand where she fits into all of this.”

“Yuhon was the elder son, and the more warlike by far. He had made enemies with Xing; they wanted his head. Mundeok let him live, but he kept him close, where he could watch him. But his younger brother Il, who was always quiet and bookish, was exiled from the castle. He lived close to here, actually. His daughter was born with startling red hair. Your cousin, Yona. I never met her. After the rebellion, he was deemed too dangerous, for his wife had led the charge, and he was assassinated. I thought Yona had died with her father until recently. But when I heard that Hiryuu had taken the castle, then I knew.”

Cousins. All this time, and he had never known. Cousins, and deposed heirs to the throne. What they could have accomplished together, had he known.

“I am sorry, my son, that we could never tell you.” Yonhi murmurs, reaching for his hand and clasping it between hers briefly.

“I understand why you could not,” he says, slowly,” and I do not blame you for it.”

“But you are angry.”

He considers this. Is he angry? He thinks he might be furious. But it is lethargic, more of an aftertaste of anger. Mostly, he just feels empty.

“I am,” he agrees, “but not at you, mother.”

They sit in silence for a while longer and Soowon thinks of Hak. Tomorrow, he will have to face him, with this revelation between them. He will have to smile with especial care, make an appropriate number of light-hearted comments. Hak knows him well but Soowon thinks that he can fool him, with some concentration. It will be necessary. He cannot ever let Hak know about this, not if he wants to keep Hak by his side. Hak’s beloved grandfather had been Soowon’s enemy all long. The thought that he had spent his life in ignorant service to the man who had destroyed his family fills him with a quietly smouldering rage. And now, after learning the truth, he has even been deprived of revenge. His fingers twitch spasmodically on his knees.

“What will you do now?” Yonhi asks eventually, softly. Soowon mulls this over, pushing away all emotion and looking at it all objectively as best he can. He cannot condemn Yona for her actions, knowing what he does now. But she has taken the throne in the name of Hiryuu, not as Il’s daughter. The reliance on legend puts him on edge. Is she truly fit to rule, or is she relying solely on the mandate of her red hair and the brute force of her companions? Kouka will not survive a weak queen in the unstable times after a complete political overhaul, especially not one so young.

“If she truly is what this country needs, then I want to help her,” He says finally, “But otherwise, one usurper is no better than another.’

Yonhi takes him by the shoulders then, her expression serious. “Don’t fight her, Soowon. You won’t win. Despite what your father thought, it is not wise to disregard the gods. And Yona has all their blessings, for she truly is their long lost brother Hiryuu returned, with her warriors by her side.”

“You are sure then, that she is really Hiryuu?” Soowon asks. He’s always known that Yona was special. The feeling one got around her was indescribable, like basking in the rays of a small, intense sun. But charisma did not automatically make her a reincarnated dragon god! Even if he were real, why would Hiryuu only return now, after thousands of years of silence?

“There was a prophecy made by the priest who lives by the cliffs. He has significant spiritual power and I trust his words.”

Soowon had never accounted for the depth of his mother’s belief in the ancient myths. He knew she was religious, and that it had been a point of contention between her and Yuhon. Soowon himself tends to stay neutral on the topic. He believes that Hiryuu and the dragons existed and now, maybe, exist again. But he does not believe that this gives them automatic authority over Kouka. Humans should be ruled by humans, not by arbitrarily appearing deities.

There are too many unknowns. Soowon needs more information. He will go into the cities, talk to his network, and gauge the stability of the country. And then, he will decide whether he will stand with his cousin Yona or oppose Hiryuu, dragon god, on behalf of the people he rules.

 

* * *

 

Jaeha plops down heavily onto the bar stool, resting his chin in his hands, and eyes his surroundings with distaste. Usually, this would be his favourite kind of establishment, low-lit, full of men after a long day of work at the docks. They remind him of home, the sun-weathered faces and broad shoulders of these sailors are no different from the men of Gigan’s crew, who he had grown up around.

Because of the resemblance, it is all the more disturbing to watch them all. There isn’t a single happy face in the entire tavern. They stare listlessly into their cups, taking mechanical sips. _Nadai addicts, all of them_ , his mind supplies, and his eyes narrow in anger.

He’d had his own brush with the cursed drug just a week ago. Shameful, honestly, and he still feels guilt over causing extra trouble for Yona. She really does not have the time to be worrying about him right now. She has an entire country to run.

Even now, she’s likely poring over maps and writing reports in their room upstairs with Yun. Yona did not conquer this nation to sit in a palace, after all. For the first few months, it had been necessary, to prove that she could and would govern fairly and competently. It wasn’t all that difficult to gain the acceptance of the five generals; it was not like they could easily refuse the reincarnation of their country’s founding deity. But once she had been crowned and established a government, Yona set back into the country. Jaeha knows that she is afraid of becoming insular, ignorant of her people’s suffering, just as the Wind Tribe usurpers had grown to be.

She left Zeno and Kija in the palace to perform administrative duties in her name. Kija had protested weakly at the separation, but he has a honed talent for leadership that cannot be ignored. And Zeno…well, he helped found the country, so providing guidance should be amusing for him.

After a short stop in Awa, officially to check on their recovery from years under Kumji’s yoke, unofficially because both he and Yona missed Captain Gigan, they had made their way through the Fire Tribe villages and through to Sensui. According to Gigan, the Nadai trade was a serious, crippling problem here, and after stepping foot in Sensui, Jaeha was willing to believe it. But after actually experiencing the effect of the Nadai firsthand, Jaeha is determined to rid Kouka of it at just about any cost.

The barkeep wanders by, a balding man in a dirty apron. Jaeha waves him over and asks for a cup of the local brew. He doesn't miss the way the man’s eyes roll over his face and foreign clothing. He watches from under half lidded eyes and takes note of the bottle the man uncorks and pours from, before replacing it onto the shelf.

He brings the cup to his lips and instantly smells the sharp, unmistakable tang of Nadai. Good, he now has enough proof to start investigating.

Except now he desperately wants to drink it. Dammit. He thought he was over this. After that horrible night of withdrawal – poor Shinah did not need to see him that way ever again– Jaeha had assumed that the Nadai was behind him. But no, it calls him, and he _wants_ it so badly it's a physical ache. It is with a great effort that he puts the cup back on the table. His hands are shaking and he clenches them into fists, taking a long slow breath in through his nose.

“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” says a quiet voice from behind him and a blond man in a long, off-white cloak slides into the seat next to him. He looks fairly unassuming, despite the bulge of a sword near his hip. He’s also very obviously not a local, judging by the smooth, pale skin of his face. Something about him is vaguely familiar…

The man catches Jaeha staring and smiles, open and friendly. Jaeha feels a smile of his own settle across his lips. He’s always been weak for beautiful boys. Maybe this will distract him from the aching desire to down the cup of tainted liquor in one gulp. Speaking of which…

The barkeep is bustling around by the shelves, so Jaeha leans closer to the man and lets his voice go smooth and syrupy. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the company, but I really don’t suggest drinking this trash. It won’t end well for someone as pretty as you.”

The stranger blushes slightly, but there’s a sharp look in his eyes that Jaeha did not notice before now. “Do you mean the Nadai?”

Jaeha raises an eyebrow appraisingly. “You know of it?”

Instead of answering, the stranger takes the cup with a nod of thanks and makes a show of pretending to take a long sip. It’s convincing, Jaeha has to admit.

A quick glance around the room, and he spots an open table near the back wall. He gestures at it, raising an eyebrow invitingly, and the man nods, sliding off the stool in a smooth motion. They settle in across from one another, each with a full cup of poison.

“You didn’t notice which bottle this came from, by any chance?” the man asks, leaning across the table, chin resting on his hands. He really is pretty, Jaeha thinks, in a quiet, mundane kind of way. Nothing head turning, but now that he’s looking…there’s something about the guy that has a magnetic quality. He can’t seem to pull his eyes away.

“It’s on the third shelf, fourth from the right,” Jaeha drawls. The man glances at the wall and laughs quietly.

“They really aren’t very creative, are they? They don’t even think to change the bottle; it’s the same one as in all the other places.”

“You’ve seen these before?”

“Yes, in some of the other taverns. It’s not just this one. That one on the second shelf directly under it is likely also tainted, as are a couple on the first change. But I think those come from a different supplier. The bottle we’re drinking from though, that comes from Utsuro, a couple of streets down for sure.”

“Wow, stranger, you’ve really done your research…” Jaeha says, impressed.

The guy smiles. “Well, I’ve had some unexpected time on my hands, and some people with an interest in all this…Oh, I apologize, I never introduced myself, did I? Call me Won.”

“Well, Won, thank you. I was planning on shaking down the owner for information but it’s much cleaner and quieter this way. I’m Jaeha.”

“Jaeha…Nice to officially meet you.”

He knows some might think it careless to give away their real names in seedy taverns. But he’s thought about this. With Yona on the throne, they’ve all had to give up their names, and play the parts of legends. He’s been Lord Ryokuryuu for months, and the sound of his name from a new voice sends a pleasant jolt up his spine. Well, this turned out to be a very nice evening after all!

            “You’ve just saved me quite a bit of time, the least I can do is pay for your drugged wine,” Jaeha says, laying down a couple of coins on the counter.

            Won smiles at him. “Well then, thank you very much. You wouldn’t happen to be staying in town any longer? I am still fairly new here, and it is nice to have a friendly face around. And I am sure that I can make it worth your time…”

Jaeha hums for a moment, “Well, that all depends on what my boss wants to do…I’m not sure if she wants to stamp out the trade right away or if we’re taking a more subtle approach…”

“You have the power to end it, just like that?” Won asks, wonder on his face. “Your boss must be one fearsome woman.”

An idea pops into Jaeha’s head then, and he turns and slings a friendly arm over Won’s shoulder. The man stiffens ever so slightly but does not pull away.

“Would you like to meet her now? We’re staying in the inn upstairs.”

“Are you sure that she wouldn’t mind?”

“Oh, I’m sure. You seem like a useful guy to know, and I am sure you didn’t actually tell me all the information you have hidden in that head of yours.”

Won laughs a little, waving an arm, and noticeably does not deny it. “Well…if you insist.”

 

They only got one room, for old time’s sake, although it does feel much emptier without Kija and Zeno there. It’s the good kind of nostalgic, hearing Yona’s breathing in the night, and knowing she is safe. The palace is big, and she felt so far away from them, all alone in the royal chambers.

He knocks once, and opens it after a long moment, smiling at Won’s bemused expression.

Yun looks up from where he’s grinding something medicinal in the corner and grumbles. “Well, that was fast. And I didn’t hear any yelling, or bottles breaking. You losing your touch or something, beast? Or did you find a pretty girl to woo and forget all about it?”

Jaeha wipes an imaginary tear from his eye. “Ah, mother, I can always count upon coming home to your loving words.”

He cuts off Yun’s loud protest of “Not your damn mother!” to pull Won into the room by the hand.

“I did find someone pretty, though. Look! And he’s smart, too. Knows all about where the Nadai is coming from.”

Yun gives Won a quick, hostile once-over before shrugging and going back to his herbs.

“Well, not my problem who you choose to drag back with you anyway.”

“Speaking of whose problem this is, where _is_ our lady, anyway?” Jaeha asks. Shinah’s curled up in his fur in the corner, watching silently as always, but the room is noticeably empty of the… ruling monarch of the country…gods, all this would give the royal guards a fit, and Jaeha loves it.

“I’m right here, Jaeha,” comes her voice from the hallway “I wanted to take advantage of the baths while you were gone.”

She appears in the door, and there is a sudden, startled hiss. Won stumbles back as if burned, staring at her. Then his eyes jolt to Jaeha and to Shinah in the corner, and Jaeha sees something like genuine panic cross his face.

“Won, what’s-?”

“Well.” Yona says, wide eyed in the doorway. “This is certainly a turn of events.”

Won folds to the ground, bangs nearly brushing the ground.

“Your Majesty,” he says, “…Hiryuu.”

Yona makes a frustrated little sound and gestures for everyone else in the room to sit back down. Jaeha sees Shinah covertly put his sword back in its scabbard.

She then walks over to Won and pokes him in the shoulder.

“Stop that,” she says, shortly. “I don’t know if you think you’re hiding or something but I already saw you, so you can cut it out right now, Soowon.”

 _Ah_. Jaeha’s stomach drops a little, remembering the stories Yona had told of her childhood friends by the campfire while they traveled. The friends who lived at the palace and who would definitely be hurt by her rebellion. _Well._

“Shinah,” Jaeha whispers hotly, “did you not _recognize_ him? I thought you knew what he looked like.”

Shinah shifts a little bit, nervously, and Jaeha bites back an irritated sigh.

Won-Soowon uncurls slowly, warily, like a turtle poking his head out of its shell. His face has gone rather grey. Yona looks at him for a long moment before sighing, and plopping down next to him.

“It probably sounds strange but, it _is_ good to see you. I was happy you managed to get Hak out of the palace that day, and I had hoped you two were safe somewhere, far away.”

Soowon is gaping at her and she gestures at Shinah, quiet in the corner, the very image of a mysterious deity, if not for the squirrel currently dangling from one of the horns of his mask.

Soowon’s eyes slide shut, and he exhales slowly through his nose. “I-it is still a little difficult to believe…dragons and Hiryuu reborn. And you at the center of it all.”

“It is still hard for me to believe as well…” Yun mutters, and Jaeha remembers that he has been with Yona since the beginning, since the assassins came to her father’s little house in the forest, and she was cast out, a little girl all alone, into this tangled web of dragons and politics. She’s still so young…but she’s his queen, and his king and she is no longer that lost little girl in the woods.

“Tell me, Soowon, what do I do with you now?” she asks, and her smile is still so pleasant “I could just forget I saw you, and ignore that Hak is definitely here somewhere as well. Except, I know you. You’re planning something, always. The question is, will you work for or against me?” The threat is muted but obvious.

Soowon seems to have recovered from his shock a little bit, and his expression is calm and neutral.

“You are wise to worry, of course. But you have me completely out-maneuvered. I’m sure your Seriyuu could find Hak long before I could get to him. Besides, Jaeha brought me to you because I have information.”

“Oh?” Yona asks.

Shaking his hair out of the way, Soowon reaches around his neck and unfastens the cord there. A ring flashes in the light. Jaeha cranes his neck to look over Yona’s shoulder as she turns it over in her hands.

“But this is… “ she murmurs, tracing her fingers over the lines. “King Junam’s – my grandfather’s signet ring. Why- how do you have this?”

Soowon’s fingers clench around the cord. “My mother gave it to me. It was my father’s inheritance, as Junam’s first born son…”

Yona gasps, and drops the ring. Jaeha sees the emotions run through her face. What an outrageous claim this could be! Except, there undoubtedly is something very familiar about Won, in the curve of his smile, and the shape of his eyes. Could it be true? Could they really be-

“Cousins,” Yona whispers, staring intently at Soowon’s face.

“Yes,” he says back.

“And you-”

“Never knew, no. I was raised to serve that usurper, and I did a good job of it.”

There is such bitterness in his voice that Jaeha winces.

“Does Hak know?”

“No. And I intend to keep it that way.”

Yona nods, clearly still digesting this new information. The two of them watch each other with similar, wary expressions. Oh gods above, Jaeha finds himself thinking, two of them.

“Well, cousin Soowon” Yona finally says, and smiles, “Let us talk.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yonhi the exposition mom strikes again... 
> 
> Poor Hak got kind of neglected by the end of this. I'm sorry Hak. 
> 
> Im greymantleish on tumblr - come talk to me!


End file.
